Chapter IV

Stygan lay there, napping under the tree. His eyes blinked awake, groggily. The terrified scream of Malon set his mind and body into overdrive. He suddenly jerked up. As he arose, he was confronted by two masked bandits carrying swords. One had a Zanbatō slung over his shoulder which looked custom made. Its blade was black with red lines running up it like cracks. It had jagged edges which looked like they could rip through even the toughest armor. The other wielded a custom made broad sword with a short t-shaped hilt and two protruding horns part way up the blade. Stygan reached for his sword but found it was missing. Only the sheath remained.

"We took the precautionary of un-arming you" the bandit with the Zanbatō said.

The two men stood in front of Stygan, wearing cloths covering from their nose to their shoulders, concealing their identities. The bandit with the big sword stood on Stygan's left. He wore a brown cloth. He stood around 6'4 with a very muscular structure. He had piercing, icy blue eyes and long blonde hair to his shoulders. The other wore a black cloth. He was a bit shorter than his companion, about 6 feet. He wasn't as muscular as the other, but still had a good composure. Stygan sat there, staring them down.

"Just let the girl go and I won't hurt you." said Stygan, trying to keep his rage under control.

The two bandits laughed at this.

"Hurt us? You don't even have a weapon!" said the large bandit.

"Let the girl go." Stygan repeated, this time with more edge to his voice.

"Or what?" provoked the other bandit. "You 'gonna cry?"

Stygan rushed between the two bandits, getting behind them. He delivered a hard kick to the back of the shorter bandit's knees, making him collapse to the ground. The large bandit swung his sword at Stygan, who effortlessly dodged it and countered with a kick to the chest. The kick pushed the bandit back, but didn't look like it hurt him much. Stygan's leg hurt from the kick. It was like kicking a castle wall! Stygan leaped over to the bandit on the ground and recovered with a roll while grabbing the bandit's sword. Stygan moved into a defensive position and waited for another attack from the large bandit. The large bandit came running at Stygan, sword ready. He had to be careful not to get caught by that sword. If he did, it'd be all over. The bandit took another side swing at him. Stygan rolled out of the way.

"Oh no you don't!" said the bandit, and turned his sword sideways, jagged edges pointing towards Stygan.

Stygan, who was in the middle of his rolling dodge, felt something rip into his shoulder. He screamed out in agony as the bandit pulled the sword, along with Stygan, towards him. As Stygan was being dragged towards the hulking mass of man, he tried to dislodge the jagged edge that was hooked into his bone. The more he tried, the more it hurt. He was dragged into the bandit's reach. He was lifted off the ground by the bandit with one hand, the sword still in his shoulder blade. The bandit unhooked the sword and threw Stygan across into the tree he was resting under. His back hit the trunk, sending his body into a new world of pain. Stygan sat there, holding his shoulder wound and breathing heavily due to the pain. The bandit walked over to him and grabbed him by his shoulder wound and lifted him up again. Stygan let out another scream of pain. The bandit squeezed the wound, making it bleed more and making Stygan scream louder. The hulking man swung his sword into the trunk of the tree, embedding it deep within the wood. The bandit punched Stygan in the face. The force of the punch whipped Stygan's head back. He grabbed Stygan's arm and twisted it, making the muscle holding it in place tear. Stygan held in a scream of pain this time. The bandit threw Stygan to the ground, leaving him breathless. Stygan blacked out from the pain.

The cold rain droplets hit his face, awakening him from his dark, dreamless slumber. He tried to move but the pain was too intense. His whole body ached. He lifted his face off the muddy ground. That hurt too. The pain was severe; he wasn't sure how long he could hold his head up for. A droplet of blood ran from the top of his head, down the bridge of his nose, rested on the tip and fell to the muddy earth below. He tasted the coppery flavor of blood in his mouth. He lay back in the mud again, exhausted from the pain of lifting his head. He lay there a moment, looking across the gloomy, muddy field.

The whole field had a grey tint to it. The dead, leafless trees were slick and black from the rain, making the field look even more depressing.

He put his palms flat on the ground and pushed himself to his knees. Intense pain shot up his arms as he did so, making him collapse into the mud again. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his knees again. This time the pain was duller. Tears welled in his eyes as he forced himself to his feet. The pain was tremendous. He stood there, waiting for his legs to snap or to black out from the pain again. None happened. As he stood there, the pain receded, allowing him to catch his breath. He looked around the field, searching. He couldn't see very well because his muddy, wet hair was draped over his face, like a black, gloomy curtain. He attempted to move the hair out of his eyes, but that caused too much pain, so he left it. As he took a step, the left side of his ribs burst into a white hot flair of pain. He winced, holding them. His ribs must be broken or fractured he realized. He took another step, resulting in another burst of pain. Every step towards his destination let out another scream of agony from somewhere on his body. His vision was blurry from the pain; his eyes probably had been damaged too. As he stood there, staring at what he was looking for, not believing what he was seeing. He refused to accept this as a reality. He looked at her, tears filling his eyes once again; this time, not of pain, but of sorrow.

Malon hung there, pinned to the tree. Her bright eyes, usually filled with life and joy, now only held the essence of mortality and pain. Her mouth was gaped open in a scream of agony and terror. She hung there, her feet dangling mere inches off the ground, blood dripping from her toes. The only thing that kept her in place was the sword that was pierced through her chest, through the front of the tree and out the other end. But it was not any sword, it was his sword.

Stygan fell to his knees, making them scream. He kneeled there in the mud, in the pouring rain, his eyes blurry from the tears of anguish. The whole world had become silent. He sat there in stillness and silence, staring at his loves hanging body. There was nothing he could do. He knew, no matter what he did, nothing would ever bring her back.

"Ah, lost love." came a voice from behind Stygan. "How tragic."

Stygan did not bother to turn around. He sat still in front of the tree.

"I can help you, you know" said the voice.

"Unless you bring death, you are of no help" said Stygan.

"Oh, I tend to disagree, for, I can bring her back."

Stygan looked back at the red cloaked figure standing behind him. He couldn't see any facial features because the man had his hood up. He could only see that he had a glowing triangle on his right hand. The man was very bulky; he looked very muscular, even with the cloak covering most of him.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Leave me be, you senile fool" said Stygan, turning back to the tree.

A butterfly fluttered by the cloaked figure. He grabbed it and crushed it in his hand. There was a glow of red light that came from the figure's hand. He opened his hand and the butterfly flew out as if nothing had happened.

Stygan witnessed this spectacular magic trick and was instantly intrigued.

"Ok" said Stygan calmly. "I believe you now. Bring her back"

"Ah." said the figure. "If only it was that easy. First, I need you to do me a favour or two."

"I'm not your little errand boy." said Stygan. "I won't do it"

"No? Well then, I guess you don't need my help after all" said the cloaked figure. He started to walk off when Stygan stopped him.

"Fine, I'll do it"

"Good. I need you to promise me that I have your full allegiance."

"I promise. You have my full allegiance. What do I have to do?"

"To answer that question, you would have to ask yourself, what would you do to bring her back?"

Stygan stood there a minute. "Anything"